


I'm Feeling Dirty

by LifeInWentworth



Category: Wentworth - Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:50:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LifeInWentworth/pseuds/LifeInWentworth





	I'm Feeling Dirty

Erica lay in bed that night next to a sleeping Mark. She was wide awake, thinking about the things she had seen in that place and letting it excite her. She looked at the man next to her and got out of the bed swiftly but quietly. 

She lay on the couch and closed her eyes. She bit her bottom lip, picturing a man pouring wax onto a woman below, gasping as it hit skin, picturing a hand firmly smacking and grabbing flesh, picturing two women, in leather, kissing passionately, as though no-one were watching even though they were on display for the world. She saw, and heard, nearly felt the crack of the whips, turning pale skin red as nails dug into the same skin, leaving their marks. All of a sudden, the young woman wasn’t just remembering what she had seen at that club, she was creating new images from the desires in her head. This wasn’t the first time she had wondered about things like being strapped to a bed and fucked until her body hung limp or having her arms pinned by her side as she was teased relentlessly until she was begging for release. It wasn’t the first time she had thought about being intimate with a woman.  
Erica had her hand on her stomach, clenched and tense, still chewing her bottom lip. She didn’t know why she found these things attractive when everything she had grown up around told her that things like being with a woman, let alone things such as bondage were wrong, sick, the work of the devil. But she couldn’t deny the feeling that coursed through her entire body and resonated in her chest and between her legs when she thought of them. She knew Mark wasn’t interested in anything that wasn’t…ordinary. He didn’t even like to kiss too long in public, or get undressed in front of an open window even when nobody could see in, he was the epitome of everything she had been taught was normal. Ordinary. So why did those words start to be synonymous with boring lately? 

Mark was so nice, kind and gentle, she thought. He looked at her like she was his entire world, but there was no real…spark in his eyes. He worked for his dad’s company; he was always doing things for other people; not unlike Erica, in that way. He cooked dinner and even cleaned the kitchen afterwards. All of her friends liked him and her parent’s simply adored him. He was happy to go to the movies Erica liked; the artsy, indie movies that nobody else wanted to see, and took her to nice, pricey restaurants with rich food.  
God, just thinking about Mark and all of his perfections, or imperfections, depending how you looked at it, was enough to calm her body right down. She sighed and walked into the kitchen, having a glass of water. She didn’t want to be some kind of sexual deviant, but that’s what she had decided her label was when she had first found herself excited by things that were less than reputable in her world. She couldn’t be. She had her life planned…or her parents did anyway. Lawyer, completely respectable profession. She knew she’d been placed in a box and her only desire was to live up to the expectations that had been placed on her. Erica’s problem was she wanted to please everyone. That meant her ambitions always came at the bottom of the list, below everybody else’s.

So she should have known, when she left her father’s company, when she branched out on her own, started pursuing a career in the prison system, all thing’s nobody else wanted for her, that those thoughts, those desire’s would come back. She’d repressed them for years, played happy couples with Mark, engaged for years but never married but always satisfied, or so she pretended. It was ironic that all these things she wanted, to be out from her parents thumb, to get out on her own… well eventually, one would lead to the other and all of a sudden, she was in the prison system with this young, attractive female prisoner delivering her flirtatious lines and endless innuendos and images flooded her head once again. But she’d repressed those feelings before, and she would do it again now. It wasn’t normal, she told herself, and it wasn’t acceptable. Because, of all her wants and ambitions, it was those desires that, in her head, were the worst. And so, when she would think of women and blindfolds and wax and whips and chains, she would scorn herself and force herself to cuddle up with her fiancée on the couch until eventually, the thoughts… they didn’t go away, but they got a little quieter in the back of her mind and she could deal with that, just turning down the volume on those thoughts, but of course she knew, one day, the volume would be turned back up and something would happen, she didn’t know what, maybe just another visit to a club like The Velvet Curtain, or perhaps something else altogether, but it would bring everything to the surface and she would have to make a choice. But for now, she could ignore it, pretend it didn’t exist and that she knew where she wanted to be in life… and that she was there.


End file.
